


It's The Simple Things

by Prince_Ofluff



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Male Slash, One Shot, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, pre slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-01
Updated: 2013-02-01
Packaged: 2017-11-27 19:44:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/665746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prince_Ofluff/pseuds/Prince_Ofluff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rare chance comes for them to chance the way things have been between them. A light to guide them across the gulf that has separated them. Are they brave enough to take the step?</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's The Simple Things

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I own only my twisted imagination :)

This was…a puzzlement.

 

            The Joker looked at the mewling little thing lying in the rain before him and for once his chaotic mind came to a shattering stand still. He looked around, the street was deserted and the child’s cries didn’t bring any out to investigate. He cocked his head to the side, trying to understand the situation. His mind buzzed as he bent and picked up the child, giving it small shelter under his purple jacket. His makeup was starting to run but he paid it no attention. Very few people knew that his makeup only covered skin of the same shade.

            The child had stopped crying and was looking up at him curiously. Bright green eyes were staring up at him, waiting for _him_ to do something. For a brief moment the shattered images of his past came into focus. A baby. He would have had a baby if the world was a fair place. But the world wasn’t fair. Why else would his wife and child have died and this baby be abandoned on some street in the rain?

            He gripped his green hair until he felt a few strands break off in his grip. This wasn’t like him. He just _did_ things. He didn’t think about them. He didn’t make plans. He didn’t think about the future. He sighed and knew that the only thing he knew right now was he couldn’t bring himself to put the kid back on the cold wet cement. There was only one thing _to_ do.

 

xXx

                       

            It had been foolish to think that just because it was raining tonight was going to be quiet. Still…he had hoped. But when he was doing one last look through there was a fire that caught his attention. It was in an alleyway of one of the poorer districts where such a thing was pretty common and the Fire Department would prioritize other emergencies first.

            Withholding a sigh he guided the Batmobile towards the sight. It was probably just some kids; he would scare them off and make his way home for the night. When he got there the fire was dying down and there weren’t any kids in sight. He frowned. Either they got bored and had headed home…or this was a set up.

            His fears were confirmed when the Joker stepped out of the shadows. He felt his hand going to his belt, wondering what trick the villain was up to now. But something about the look on his face had him pausing. There was…it didn’t have words.

            Bringing his hand away from the belt he stepped forward “Joker?” For some reason a feeling of fear filled him. Was there something wrong with the villain?

            Seeing the fear…or was it concern? On Batman’s face made something thaw inside his crippled heart. He gave a slow smile, not the usual dark one he wore, but a true smile. “I seem to have gotten in over my head Batsy…” Saying this he slowly pulled away his coat to reveal the child hidden underneath.

            Of all the things that he expected the Joker to reveal, a weapon, a threat, anything…but a child. It came to him then _why_ the Joker had started this fire. He had wanted _him_ to come. Seeing the Joker standing there soaked from the rain as he tried to cover the child from the weather. It seemed that the babe had already seen more than they should of the cold and wet.

            He rarely had a chance to smile when he wore the cowl but he felt one cracking as he looked on this pitiful site. “Do you want me to take them?” His tone came out a little gentler than he had intended. The Joker flinched and seemed to instinctively shield the child before stiffly correcting his actions.

            Holding the child close to his chest he rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean…I don’t really know what to do with it…And ha..ha…I don’t have a great place to keep it. But I ahh thought that if you had all that gear and things that you might be ah able to support a kid or maybe find a place for it…”

            Deciding that this probably wasn’t a trap. He looked down at the child and was surprised when the Joker nearly thrust the child at him. He took him carefully and used his cape to cover it. He mentally chuckled to himself. It wouldn’t be hard for him to take on the child. After all he had housed a few orphans.

            He looked away from the child and saw that the Joker was looking at the baby with a strange lost expression on his clownish face. He cleared his throat and got the Joker’s attention. “I’ll take it…” He paused and was almost going to say thank you but knew that Joker didn’t want him to.

            The feeling that filled him confused him. He knew that the right choice was to give the child to the Batman…but he had kind of liked how warm and nice the baby had felt when he held it. He rubbed his chest and licked his lips before deciding against saying anything more and leaving. The thoughts of his past finally gave him mercy and he could feel them slipping away into the whirling jumble of black and white that they usually were.

 

Wayne Manor

 

            Coming home with the child was a challenge that the Batmobile had not been built for. Still he had managed. What he had not prepared for was the look Alfred gave him when he saw the little girl.

            “Sir…” Alfred wondered even what words he could say to the young master Bruce. But he supposed that even if he could find the words they would be useless. Master Bruce was very stubborn in nature.

            Arrangements for the child were made and Alfred carefully chose not to notice the traces of white makeup on her clothing. He trusted that Master Bruce knew what he was getting into. Or at least hoped that was the case.

            Looking down at the little girl Bruce realized very quickly that she would need a name. He felt an uncomfortable swell of emotion in his chest when he knew exactly what he wanted to call her. He smiled down at her and ran his hand over her small head and downy hair. “Martha…” He was aware that the name was a little outdated, but they could come up with a nickname until she grew into it. After all… it was his mother’s name.

            In short time the Wayne Manor soon had one of the most lavish nurseries that money could buy. The little girl wanted for nothing and since he had ‘found her on his doorstep’, which was the official story taken down by the police, and the fact he was willing and far more than able to provide for her it took hardly more than his signature to formally adopt her.

            The news papers of course made a big splash about it. He was known for adopting orphans but due to the age of the baby and the fact he had named her after his mother there was a lot of attention on her. He hoped that Joker would think that Batman gave her to Bruce Wayne, however he had…contingencies if need be.

 

With The Joker

 

            The newspaper was in pretty terrible condition. But that didn’t matter to him. He just wanted to see her face one more time. Not that he had known she was a girl until now. He had forgotten that all babies tended to look much the same when they first came out. But all washed up and dressed in the cute little outfit he could tell now she was as little girl. He read the story about Bruce Wayne finding her on his doorstep. He smiled, his batsy was very very lucky that he never planned to hurt him through his alternate identity.

            Oh he had known for a long time. Sometimes he came close to letting it slip. He knew how guarded his precious civilian identity. It didn’t matter to him.  It was all a Façade to him. He traced the photo of the little girl, named Martha after Bruce Wayne’s mother. He thought it was a terrible name but he was glad to see the small content smile curving Brucie’s lips. He never got to see him smile. All he saw were the scowls and frowns. He sometimes wished he could make him smile. See the fun in life.

            He cut out the picture of Bruce holding Martha in his arms and kept it in his jacket pocket. He didn’t want to lose it but he was never able to focus too long on any one thing. He would find himself wandering back to the spot that he had first found her and he didn’t like the emotions that came with looking at that little empty spot.

            He never meant to be so reckless.

            He knew that he was going down a dangerous road. Bruce had the best security that there was. He had probably had a hand in designing most of it himself. Still he knew all the little tricks and would find himself peeking into the nursery. He wished he could go in and look at Martha a bit closer. But that was probably not a very good idea. He didn’t have many bad _bad_ ideas. But that was a pretty _bad_ bad one. He sighed and pressed his finger into a little circle on the window.

            Since when had he felt so _tired_?

            He couldn’t bring himself to terrorize the city. He didn’t want to burn or pillage or destroy. He just wanted to look at that crinkled black and white photo of Bruce and Martha. The memories of his old life were coming back with disturbing frequency. He couldn’t let himself sleep because every time he did he had terrible nightmarish dreams. Not that they were frightening. They were terrible because he wanted them to be real so badly. They showed him a life that he could have. At first it was the life he could have had if his wife and child hadn’t died. But then it started to change.

            Instead of his wife waking beside him it was Bruce. The child which at first was blurry became Martha’s smiling face and green eyes looking up at him. It was cruel for his mind to show him such things. Such impossible things. Things that he had made impossible by being the Joker.

            He often found himself laughing for hours at the situation. If he wasn’t the Joker he could have a normal life where someone loved him. But if he wasn’t the Joker he would have never found Martha and she would have died on that cold street.

            During these times he often thought back to the conversations he had with Harvey Dent…Two Face now, about Fairness. He saw them in a new light and what was once a game became disturbingly real to him.

            Finally he was too tired of fighting, he was too tired of memories, He was tried. That was the night he found himself inside the Nursery with Martha curled up so nice and quiet in his arms sleeping sweetly. He didn’t turn around when Bruce entered. He didn’t respond to his threats. He just kept looking down at that little girl and smiling.

            When Bruce was in his face commanding him to put her down he just gave a small broken smile “I’m tired Batsy…”

           

            Bruce looked at the Joker as if he had lost what little bits were left in his brain. He supposed that if any villain were to discover his civilian identity The Joker was the most likely one. He had been terrified when he came in and saw a stranger holding Martha. But when he saw the Joker turn the fear was because of the forlorn expression on his face.

            So many times. So many times he had tried to reach across the black gulf that separated them and offer him a light to guide his way across. Every time the Joker would laugh before he vanished. This time…this time though it felt as if something was about to change. That there was a chance here. A chance neither of them could afford to miss.

            Coming up behind him slowly so as not to startle him Bruce gently placed is large hands on the Joker’s surprisingly delicate shoulders. “If you’re tired you can rest here for awhile. I know Martha misses you.” It was a low blow, but Batman was all about strategy.

            Turning slowly Joker looked at Bruce with confusion “Why would you do that? What if I decide to burn the place down? Tell everyone about Bruce Wayne? Slit your throat while you sleep? Why would you even…?”

            The fragility that Bruce saw in his face confirmed his suspicions. He felt his lips curving in the ghost of a smile as he said “Let’s not think about it. Let’s just see where this goes. For both of us.”

 

 

           The next morning when Alfred came to wake up Master Bruce he paused as he looked at the scene before him. Master Bruce with the Joker curled next to him and Martha sleeping nestled between them. Everyone was in their day clothes and thanks to the Joker there was an unsightly amount of makeup on the sheets. _Still_. It was probably the most content he had seen Master Bruce in a while. Perhaps he knew what he was doing after all.

 

 

The makeup was still a nightmare to get out of the sheets.

 

 

Thank you for reading my fluffy! Hope you enjoyed it!


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